Hey, everyone! My name is (not) CJ1145. I've been doing RPs for a while, and for the longest time I've had this idea. I wrote out the rules as a thought exercise some time ago. See, I kind of thought of what an RP based on Death Note would be like. It became immediately apparent that a loose RP, in the style of my previous attempts, would be futile at best. It would require structure. A set of rules to make it work properly.

Thus, I come to you with an experiment. I want to try and make this RP happen. I don't know how it will go. It may be groundbreaking, or it may crash and burn spectacularly. But it will be unorthodox, I believe. I will try and go over this as comprehensively as I can. But I lost the original draft of the rules, so I am going by memory. Bear with me.

Character CreationPHA+TGV0J3Mgc3RhcnQgb2ZmIHdpdGggdGhlIGJhc2ljIHByZW1pc2UuIFlvdSBhcmUgYWxsIGNoYXJhY3RlcnMgaW4gSmFwYW4sIGluIGEgc21hbGwgdG93biwgYWxsIHdpdGggYSBmYXNjaW5hdGlvbiBvciBpbnRlcmVzdCBpbiBkZXRlY3RpdmUgd29yaywgYmUgaXQgYnkgcHJvZmVzc2lvbiBvciBob2JieSwgb3Igc2ltcGx5IGEga25hY2sgZm9yIGl0LiBCdXQgb25lIG9mIHlvdSBpcyBzcGVjaWFsOyBvbiBhIG5vcm1hbCBzdHJvbGwsIHlvdSBjYW1lIGFjcm9zcyBhIERlYXRoIE5vdGUuIFlvdSBoYXZlIGFkb3B0ZWQgdGhlIG5hbWUgb2YgS2lyYSwgYW5kIGFyZSBub3cgZXhhY3RpbmcgeW91ciBvd24gYnJhbmQgb2YganVzdGljZS4gVGhlIG90aGVycyBtdXN0IGZpbmQgd2hvIHlvdSBhcmUsIGFuZCB5b3UgbXVzdCBraWxsIHRoZSBvdGhlcnMgYmVmb3JlIHRoZXkgZmluZCB5b3UuPC9wPgo8cD5DaGFyYWN0ZXIgc2hlZXRzIGFyZSBiZWxvdywgYnV0IERPIE5PVCBQT1NUIFRIRVNFLiBJIHdpbGwgZXhwbGFpbiBmdXJ0aGVyIGRvd24uPC9wPgo8cD48ZGl2IGNsYXNzPSdzcG9pbGVyIGhpZGRlbicgb25DbGljaz0iJGpxKHRoaXMpLmhpZGUoKTsgJGpxKHRoaXMpLmFmdGVyKCc8ZGl2IGNsYXNzPVwnc3BvaWxlciB2aXNpYmxlXCc+JyArIEJhc2U2NC5kZWNvZGUoJGpxKCcjc3BvaWxlcl80NTM2ODhlMjA2NDg3MDczMzE5OTBlNjkyNDgwNzJiMCcpLmh0bWwoKSkgKyAnPC9kaXY+Jyk7ICRqcSgnI3Nwb2lsZXJfNDUzNjg4ZTIwNjQ4NzA3MzMxOTkwZTY5MjQ4MDcyYjAnKS5yZW1vdmUoKTsgJGpxKHRoaXMpLnJlbW92ZSgpOyI+PC9wPgo8cD5DaGFyYWN0ZXIgU2hlZXRzLCBGSUxMIEJVVCBET04mIzAzOTtUIFBPU1Q8c3BhbiBpZD0nc3BvaWxlcl80NTM2ODhlMjA2NDg3MDczMzE5OTBlNjkyNDgwNzJiMCcgc3R5bGU9J2Rpc3BsYXk6bm9uZSc+UEhBK1RrRk5SVG9nS0ZsdmRYSWdZV04wZFdGc0lHNWhiV1VwUEdKeUlDOCtRVXhKUVZNNklDaFVhR1VnYm1GdFpTQjViM1VnZDJsc2JDQm5ieUJpZVNrOFluSWdMejVIUlU1RVJWSTZJQ2hQWW5acGIzVnpLVHhpY2lBdlBrRkhSVG9nS0U5aWRtbHZkWE1wUEdKeUlDOCtRVkJRUlVGU1FVNURSVG9nS0VKbElIRjFhWFJsSUdSbGMyTnlhWEIwYVhabExDQndiR1ZoYzJVcFBHSnlJQzgrVUVWU1UwOU9RVXhKVkZrNklDaEVaWE5qY21saVpTQjBhR1VnYVc1dVpYSnRiM04wSUc1aGRIVnlaU0J2WmlCNWIzVnlJR05vWVhKaFkzUmxjaTRnU0c5M0lHUnZJSFJvWlhrZ2RHaHBibXNnWVc1a0lIQnliMk5sYzNNZ2FXNW1iM0p0WVhScGIyNC9JRmRvWVhRZ1lYSmxJSFJvWldseUlHeHZkbVZ6TENCM2FHRjBJR1J2SUhSb1pYa2daR1Z6Y0dselpUOGdWMmhoZENCa2J5QjBhR1Y1SUhSb2FXNXJJRzltSUc5MGFHVnlJSEJsYjNCc1pTd2daWFJqTGp4aWNpQXZQa0pKVDBkU1FWQklXVG9nS0VaeWIyMGdZbWx5ZEdnZ2RHOGdjSEpsYzJWdWRDd2dkMmhoZENkeklIbHZkWElnWTJoaGNtRmpkR1Z5SUdKbFpXNGdkWEFnZEc4L0tUeGljaUF2UGsxUFZFbFdRVlJKVDA0NklDaFFiM056YVdKc2VTQnRiM04wSUdsdGNHOXlkR0Z1ZEM0Z1YwaFpJSGR2ZFd4a0lIbHZkWElnWTJoaGNtRmpkR1Z5SUdKbFkyOXRaU0JMYVhKaFB5QlhhR0YwSUcxdmRHbDJZWFJwYjI1eklHUnZJSFJvWlhrZ2FHRjJaU0IwYnlCbmJ5QnZiaUJoSUd0cGJHeHBibWNnYzNCeVpXVS9JRVp2Y2lCMGFHVWdjMkZyWlNCdlppQnphVzF3YkdsamFYUjVMQ0IwYUdseklHbHpJSEpsY1hWcGNtVmtMaUJGZG1WeWVTQmphR0Z5WVdOMFpYSWdhVzUyYjJ4MlpXUWdiWFZ6ZENCb1lYWmxJR0VnY21WaGMyOXVJSFJvWlhrblpDQmlaU0JMYVhKaExDQnpieUJKSjIwZ2JtOTBJSEpsYzNSeWFXTjBaV1FnYVc0Z2MyVnNaV04wYVc5dUxpazhMM0ErPC9zcGFuPjwvZGl2PjwvcD4KPHA+T25jZSB0aGF0IGlzIGZpbGxlZCwgeW91IHdpbGwgbm90IGJlIHBvc3RpbmcgaXQuIFlvdSB3aWxsIHNlbmQgdGhpcyB2ZXJzaW9uIG9mIHRoZSBjaGFyYWN0ZXIgc2hlZXQgdG8gbWUsIGluIGEgcHJpdmF0ZSBtZXNzYWdlLiBJbiB0aGUgdGhyZWFkIHByb3BlciwgeW91IHdpbGwgcG9zdCBhIHJlLWZvcm1hdHRlZCB2ZXJzaW9uIG9mIHRoZSBzaGVldCwgbG9va2luZyBsaWtlIHRoaXMuPC9wPgo8cD48ZGl2IGNsYXNzPSdzcG9pbGVyIGhpZGRlbicgb25DbGljaz0iJGpxKHRoaXMpLmhpZGUoKTsgJGpxKHRoaXMpLmFmdGVyKCc8ZGl2IGNsYXNzPVwnc3BvaWxlciB2aXNpYmxlXCc+JyArIEJhc2U2NC5kZWNvZGUoJGpxKCcjc3BvaWxlcl8xY2FhNTA2NWJhODU2OWQ2MzQwZDllZmUxOWE2YTM3NicpLmh0bWwoKSkgKyAnPC9kaXY+Jyk7ICRqcSgnI3Nwb2lsZXJfMWNhYTUwNjViYTg1NjlkNjM0MGQ5ZWZlMTlhNmEzNzYnKS5yZW1vdmUoKTsgJGpxKHRoaXMpLnJlbW92ZSgpOyI+PC9wPgo8cD5TaGVldCB0byBwb3N0IGluLXRocmVhZDxzcGFuIGlkPSdzcG9pbGVyXzFjYWE1MDY1YmE4NTY5ZDYzNDBkOWVmZTE5YTZhMzc2JyBzdHlsZT0nZGlzcGxheTpub25lJz5QSEErUVV4SlFWTTZJQ2hPYnlCdVlXMWxjeUJuYVhabGJpNHBQR0p5SUM4K1IwVk9SRVZTT2lBb1QySjJhVzkxY3lrOFluSWdMejVCUjBVNklDaFBZblpwYjNWekxDQnRZWGtnWW1VZ1ptRnJaV1FnYVdZZ2RHaGxjbVVnYVhNZ1lTQnpkV1ptYVdOcFpXNTBJR3hoWTJzZ2IyWWdaRzlqZFcxbGJuUmhkR2x2YmpzZ2IzUm9aWEozYVhObExDQmtiMjRuZENCaVpTQnpkWEp3Y21selpXUWdhV1lnYzI5dFpXOXVaU0JsWVhOcGJIa2diRzl2YTNNZ2FYUWdkWEF1S1R4aWNpQXZQa0ZRVUVWQlVrRk9RMFU2SUNoRWFXWm1hV04xYkhRZ2RHOGdhR2xrWlNrOFluSWdMejVRUlZKVFQwNUJURWxVV1RvZ0tFOXVJSFJvWlNCemRYSm1ZV05sTENCM2FHOGdZWEpsSUhsdmRUOGdRVzU1SUcxaGMydHpJRzl5SUdadmNtTmxaQ0JpWldoaGRtbHZjbk1nWjI4Z2FHVnlaUzRnVW1WbllYSmtiR1Z6Y3lCdlppQjBhR1ZwY2lCMGNuVmxJSE5sYkdZc0lHaHZkeUJrYnlCdmRHaGxjbk1nY0dWeVkyVnBkbVVnZVc5MWNpQmphR0Z5WVdOMFpYSS9LVHhpY2lBdlBrSkpUMGRTUVZCSVdUb2dLRTl1YkhrZ2FXNWpiSFZrWlNCb1pYSmxJSGRvWVhRZ2QyOTFiR1FnWW1VZ1kyOXRiVzl1YkhrZ2EyNXZkMjRnYjNJZ1pXRnphV3g1SUhKbGMyVmhjbU5vWldRdUlFUmxaWEFnYzJWamNtVjBjeUJ2Y2lCbVlXMXBiSGt0WlhoamJIVnphWFpsSUcxaGRIUmxjbk1nZDI5MWJHUWdiR2xyWld4NUlHNXZkQ0JpWlNCcmJtOTNiaUIwYnlCMGFHVWdjSFZpYkdsakxpazhMM0ErPC9zcGFuPjwvZGl2PjwvcD4KPHA+VGhpcyBpcyB0byBlbnN1cmUgbm8gb3V0IG9mIGNoYXJhY3RlciBrbm93bGVkZ2UgaW1wZWRlcyB3aXRoIHRoZSBnYW1lLjwvcD4=

When all of this is finished, I will look among the selections offered, and choose who I want to be in the RP proper.

Public character 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

This looks interesting for sure. I've not seen Death Note, but I was planning on watching it on Hulu anyway, so I'll go ahead and try to whip a sheet up. That way I can play and watch at the same time!

I must apologize for the quality of my writing on this one. I'm doing this at work where I change workstations every hour, so I'm always on the clock. If you have any questions or problems with it, I'll probably be on Skype today. Otherwise just PM me.

Public character 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

Eight individuals have been sat around a conference table, silently exchanging glances back and forth. They are all strangers, some called in from the other side of the country. None have been informed of their purpose in being here, but all have been assured it is urgent. They've been there for ten minutes, and wish to be through with the waiting.

At one end of the room, a door quietly opens, and the silence of the room is broken by footsteps; a tall, broad-shouldered man enters the room. His eyes are hidden behind circular, dark sunglasses as he moved to the head of the table, looking out over them. He is dressed in a gray suit, and is clutching a manila envelope in his hands. His face is squared and masculine, and his dark hair is coifed with intimate attention to detail of the style. A pencil mustache rests on his upper lip. He begins speaking, his soft and higher pitched voice complementing his looks to present a dignified air. His words are terse, and to the point.

"I am Kobi, acting Captain of the Japanese Task Force. If you're familiar with this group, or have been watching the news, then you already know why you are here."

He carefully sets the envelope down on the table, opening it up to pass around three photos of young men. They look to be members of the Yakuza.

"Toji Kudo. Simon Arakaki. Gozoboro Long. Three gangsters, small time crooks. All of them, dead within the last 72 hours within their cells. Two suicides and a heart attack."

He then passes around another photo of a fat, disgusting looking man.

"Cho Sato. Head of a rival gang, serving a sentence in Tokyo for fraud. Hung to death in the jail yard."

Once everyone has gotten a good look at the photos, he elaborates further. "All four men were part of highly publicized cases in this region. Their names and faces would be wholly recognizable to a Japanese citizen. May I presume you are all familiar with the case of Light Yagami, also known as Kira?"

Those present nodded. The man adjusted his shades.

"Very well. The methods of death of these men are all known to be within the realm of possibility for any man using a device referred to as a 'Death Note'. All of these factors tell my organization one thing: there is a new Kira. You have all been summoned here, as you are all qualified in your own way to assist in the investigation. Introduce yourselves however you wish to be called, and if there any questions, ask."

The conference room of Happy Sun Chocolates Inc is cozy, professional. It is late at night, and the 'urgent business' that had called the men (and one woman) around the table to meet hasn't begun yet. It was hard to imagine what might be so serious as to warrant a covert meeting inside a chocolate factory.

Beak is sitting, his cane resting in his lap as Captain Kobi explains why they are all here. He listens intently, rolling his cane in his palms as the pictures are passed around. Yakuza, all of them. Each man dead within seventy two hours of the other. And finally, Cho Sato. Kobi explains that Sato was a rival of the other three men, and that he was hung in the jail yard. Beak studies the faces on the photos for a long while, and starts to tap his good foot in rhythm with the rolling of his cane. Kobi isn't finished. He tells the group that the men in the photos were believed to have been killed using a device known as the Death Note. Beak nods, keeping his eyes on the photos.

The captain ends by asking each member of the task force to introduce themselves as they see fit. Beak taps his hooked nose and starts the conversation.

"My friends call me Beak." he says. He looks around the conference table with a somber, serious gaze. Then it's back to staring at the photos, rolling his cane, and tapping his feet. The captain asks if they have questions, but Beak waits until everyone else has been introduced before asking anything.

The Undertaker had made his way to Happy Sun Chocolates that night, and entered. Strange that he was not the only one with a cane, he thought. Unbeknownst to him, it had to do with another carrier of the Death Note. The circumstances were explained and he understood immediately why he had been called, his credentials spoke for themselves.

Reaching his bony hands and abnormally long fingers out towards the pile of photos, he believed he recognized one of them, an old case he'd needed his info on to solve, but that was a long time ago. He then studied the ways they were killed, one by heart attack,two suicides, one by hanging. The first three must have been tests and learning about it, maybe. The fourth seemed to be an experiment, this Kira wasn't as dangerous as the previous....yet. He hadn't yet begun targeting civilians. That was good, it gave them more time to find him, and stop him before he did.

"My friends call me Beak."

"That's quite nice, my good fellow. You may all consider me, your Undertaker." A smile on his face and glint in his eye told them all they needed to know in that he hadn't meant that to be taken threateningly.

"Acting Captain Koji, is there some other reason beyond the six I can think of off the top of my head as to why the JTG is outsourcing? I mean you no ill will, but I don't see the strategy behind this endeavor. The last Kira demonstrated exceptional intelligence,resourcefulness, and cunning, I'm sure that is something your agency has thought of when choosing candidates for this assignment, is it not?"

Undertaker broke eye contact with the man and returned to looking at the photographs, committing each to memory, a reminder of where this Kira started, but remembering where the first ended up.

Itachi made his way to the "Happy Sun Chocolates" Inc. Offices, it was certainly an inauspicious location for a meeting of this seriousness. As he entered the room that he had been directed to, he sat at the conference table along with seven other figures, acutely aware of every set of eyes that glanced in his direction. A professional silence that had filled the room was broken with the entrance of a lone man. His words succinct, well thought out.

"I am Kobi, acting Captain of the Japanese Task Force. If you're familiar with this group, or have been watching the news, then you already know why you are here."

Itachi gave a slow nod. He was only partially aware of why he had been called, but it was only now that he was putting the pieces together, the full reason forming in his head, his suspicious corroborated as the man continued his explanation. Four men who had committed petty crime, the kind of scum you would expect in any urbanized area.

"All four men were part of highly publicized cases in this region. Their names and faces would be wholly recognizable to a Japanese citizen. May I presume you are all familiar with the case of Light Yagami, also known as Kira?"

Now everything made sense, the crimes, the suicides after their names were publicised. This was the work of the same kind of instrument used by Kira, a "Death Note". As the gangly man across the table perused the photographs, Itachi had already formulated that these specific deaths were merely the teething stage of this new Kira, experiments at just how much he could affect them up to their death.

"Introduce yourselves however you wish to be called, and if there any questions, ask."

"My friends call me Beak."

How apt considering your hooked nose. Reminds me of a villain from that musical with the flying auto-mobile...

"That's quite nice, my good fellow. You may all consider me, your Undertaker."

Another man introduced himself, he wondered if he was an albino.

"Refer to me as Itachi. Or not at all. Captain, is Kobi your real name, or are you simply withholding your last name? Surely you have taken the necessary precautions necessary in this situation have you not?"

The lingering smell of chocolate gave the grizzled police veteran a pounding headache. Must be the caffeine, he thought bitterly. In all his years as a police officers, he had never been able to tolerate anything with even the slightest bit of caffeine in it. Coffee in particular was a source of great discomfort. Just being around the stuff made his skull feel like it was about to crack open. It didn't help that one of the seven other people gathered at the table with him was tapping their foot insistently.

The police veteran said nothing. Reaching into the deep pockets of his leather jacket he pulled out a bottle of aspirin and popped two of the pills into his mouth. He swallowed the pills eagerly, washing them down with a bottle of water he had brought with him. In was a small countermeasure, but it would have to do for now.

As the acting captain introduced himself and went through the pictures with the group, it became clear why they had all been called to this secret meeting. There was only one explanation for these events. Kira had returned.

The police veteran looked at the criminals presented in the photos with a clear disdain. He could honestly say he wasn't particularity saddened by their passing. Still, a murder was a murder.

"My friends call me Beak." The foot tapper was the first to introduce himself. Next was a rather tall, slender man who referred to himself as Undertaker. Another man introduced himself in a rather blunt way as Itachi. Not wanting to be left out, the police veteran decided he would have to think of an appropriately interesting alias. But what exactly?

"I guess you can call me Mr. Vega." He said with a smile on his face. He rubbed the back of his head with his left hand and let out a small laugh that sounded more like distant thunder. It wasn't the most original of names, but he felt it was somewhat appropriate.

Rust twitched in his seat as Itachi and Vega finished talking.Now was the time to speak, somewhere in the middle of the introductions and therefore forgettable. He'd learned that from being the invisible one his whole life.

Kobi's speech had been careful. Forensic. Analytic. To be expected from one in his position, Rust supposed.Beak had said little. An introvert, then, like himself. The injury suggested a difficult life.Undertaker was as analytical as Kobi, if not more so. He'd done his research on the previous cases, for sure.Itachi seemed... familiar with this kind of work, somehow. The way he addressed Kobi suggested professionalism, perhaps.And Mr. Vega... a film buff? Possibly. Either that or another professional. Rust was beginning to feel slightly out of his depth in a room full of adults, himself barely out of adolescence.

'Call me Rust,' he said simply.

He wondered why he had been included in this. He had done his best to appear forgettable, but perhaps on paper his life looked appealing to a detective.

"Acting Captain Koji, is there some other reason beyond the six I can think of off the top of my head as to why the JTG is outsourcing? I mean you no ill will, but I don't see the strategy behind this endeavor. The last Kira demonstrated exceptional intelligence,resourcefulness, and cunning, I'm sure that is something your agency has thought of when choosing candidates for this assignment, is it not?"

If Kobi was perturbed by the mispronunciation of his name, he makes no effort to make it clear. He adjusts his shades again, and responds as concisely as anything else he had yet said.

"Our organization's head is more than qualified for this case. And he is convinced that the key to catching Kira is not in containing ourselves to our ranks. Third parties brought down the last Kira. They will bring in this one, as well."

"Captain, is Kobi your real name, or are you simply withholding your last name? Surely you have taken the necessary precautions necessary in this situation have you not?"

The Captain smiles, for the first time any of them have seen. It is a sleazy little shape, and does not suit his immaculate presentation.

"Very astute, Itachi. Kobi is an alias, the same as you all, presumably, are using. Names are... precious. Do not share them with anyone you can't trust."

"Our organization's head is more than qualified for this case. And he is convinced that the key to catching Kira is not in containing ourselves to our ranks. Third parties brought down the last Kira. They will bring in this one, as well."

"I do not doubt that Acting Captain Kobi, but what I hoped to get at without resorting to saying it outright is that...if you were Kira themself, and assuming this one is just as intelligent as their predecessor, would you not come up on the same lists each of us did? And to go even farther, if you were the new Kira, would you not also want to gather as many of the most proficient in our field together to learn who of is the most dangerous. And eliminate us accordingly."

He waited a few moments for that idea to sink in, he truly didn't want a repeat of his last case, if Undertaker was destined to work with these people, then it was his job, along with all the rest of them, to support and keep each other alive throughout this ordeal.

"Call me Rust"

Undertaker nodded, acknowledging the youth before standing up, cane supporting him. His leg was beginning to bother him again and sitting on it wouldn't clear the problem up.

He began muttering to himself,"Kira, seven others, eight total, good, good, nine would be bad, but also a multiple of four, not so good, but then again so is thinking about this. Heart attack, Suicide, Suicide, Hanging, patterns, patterns,escalation maybe, maybe not, what is missing?"

He stopped his pacing and turned around, making eye contact with Captain Kobi again,"Do we know in what order they died in? Was the heart attack first, the two suicides, the hanging? Which was it? Tentative first steps if it was the heart attack, maybe Kira was unsure of what his new tool did, then suicides twice to make sure of his newfound power, if so, the hanging is his first public "execution", we know it'll only go more publicized from there..."

He continued his pacing, passing each of the people around the table twice each as he spoke and contemplated what he had decided would be his last case, regardless of whether he lived through it or not.

The young woman studied each photo carefully. Not that it would do much to help of course. In the cases before, this "Death Note" left investigators stumped a far a physical evidence was concerned.

"Introduce yourselves however you wish to be called, and if there any questions, ask."

"Yes. You may all call me Yumi Tosin. I'm sorry if the name is not as colorful as all of yours. It is rather on the spot"

"Do we know in what order they died in? Was the heart attack first, the two suicides, the hanging? Which was it? Tentative first steps if it was the heart attack, maybe Kira was unsure of what his new tool did, then suicides twice to make sure of his newfound power, if so, the hanging is his first public "execution", we know it'll only go more publicized from there..."

Already, she had a very competant college to work with. This mister Undertaker was asking all the right questions. Yet, as the Captain had said, these were all from high profile cases. Thar hardly narrows it down by any degree.

"Tell me Captain. Were there any mysterious deaths by heart attack that occured to otherwise healthy individuals before these four murders were committed?"

Rust brought his knees up towards his chest briefly, stretching out as Yumi talked.Now she had definitely had some sort of experience.He watched the Captain's expression as he was bombarded with questions.

"Tell me Captain. Were there any mysterious deaths by heart attack that occured to otherwise healthy individuals before these four murders were committed?"

"No, no, that's too easy,"He began off-handedly, talking to himself,"A new tool such as the Death Note you don't just go and use on someone you don't like in your life, too permanent a solution. Besides that fact, there's over a hundred people that die everyday, too much to track, do it on someone no one would miss if you're trying it out. Narrowing it down requires more than just freak heart attacks, too easy to miss on our part, wastes resources. Hmmm....not even certain a Death Note was involved, we're stuck on speculation right now, patterns emerge as time goes on, all that's known is that a cycle similar to Kira's has started."

The steady repetitiveness of his cane thumping against the floor stopped and Undertaker stood there, staring at the floor.

"No, red ink too hard to track, too far-reaching, cast a net with fewer holes, hmmm...Kira, Death Note, prisoners, what can we all surmise...too many prisons and prisoners to track if he concentrates on them...less holes, more fish caught, what do we take? We need all the information, not just the deaths, what they were tied to, first link is media exposure, what are the next ones? No, too simple, something else,three small time, one big wig, more information is needed if you have anyth-"

He stopped mid-sentence,"Something more needs to be there, we're just not seeing it right now. What could....it....be? This isn't a serial, a Kira is something more, random killings are done, we need their sheets, anything that connects them is needed, cross-reference with Cho Sato. Random busts, underling mingle-lings, anything. Too little to do anything with, patterns, patterns, anything we can find."

Rust scratched his head. This Undertaker was making a lot of noise, asking... both the right questions and some unnecessary ones. An obsession with patterns, perhaps - maybe the whole undertaker-mortician character was part of that.'Why were we selected, and how would you like us to work? Teams?' he asked. His usual desire to be invisible was gradually fading as he found himself in a room with people he felt were similar to him for the first time.Something else occurred to him as the last left his lips.'I would like to support the Undertaker's theory at this point that the likelihood of Kira being one of us is extremely high,' he mused. 'It would benefit Kira no end to see how the team trying to catch him or her would work, and if he or she's anything like what I've heard of the last one, making themselves visible to whoever selected us would be easy...'Rust stopped. He might feel a little more comfortable than usual, but he was too used to being invisible to become the centre of attention.